


Strings

by slacktension



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slacktension/pseuds/slacktension
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the finale, Team Avatar finally gets to sit and talk. Asami’s POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strings

The night sky was not a weak grey in the South Pole. Golden city lights didn’t stream up into the deep layers of fog and pollution, reaching up like darts that hovered in the air, where the light became tangible and tasted of car exhaust. The stars were overwhelming in their abundance as opposed to just the brightest ones visible that cut through the city sky to waver in their appearance. There were so many pinpricks of light above, each cooly burning and each beautiful, stringing together into pictures Asami pretended to connect. She thought she saw swans and bears, but she was a city girl. Her notions of the stars were quick glimpses of aged sky maps and her father reminiscing about years ago, when there were less people, less lights burning to mask the night sky. Things were better back then. Her mother had been alive.

Hanging above her in the indigo ink were thousands upon thousands of stars that seemed to be placed by accident, rather than by careful spirits that controlled invisible strings like fishing line hooked into her skin. The sky stretched out and laid against the snowy ground outside the walls of the compound, resting there even as mountains stretched to pierce it in vain. The horizon line was beautiful and natural unlike the stabs of skyscrapers back home.

She folded her arms above her knees and rested her chin in the valley where her arms met when she heard footsteps. She hoped to convey the message that she didn’t want to leave her spot in the snow with silence and body language.

“What are you doing?” Mako asked quietly.

She shrugged and kept her eyes trained on the horizon. “Feeling sorry for myself.”

There was a pause.

They had a lot to talk about and now was the time for it. She hoped he knew that.

“Want some company?”

“Sure.”

He sat down next to her in the snow. He didn’t have the luxury of thick, wiry coats, but he sat with her anyway. She glanced at him as he rolled down his sleeves, the first time she had ever seen him do it, and he curled himself up to copy her pose. He wasn’t as good at collapsing himself as she had been, but then again, he had always been one to fight and carve the air around himself for space.

She looked back out at the sky. There was one bright star that hung above them, slightly greenish if she narrowed her eyes to the point where her lashes bled together. She kept her eyes trained on it and waited for him to start, because she was tired of confrontation, and if the day had taught her anything, it was that the spirits were far more in control of human lives than she had ever cared to notice. She hoped an invisible hand would tense its fingers into the back of his head, wrap around his mouth and force him to speak.

She had to wait until he was shivering, and she leaned back to glance down at the bottom of his coat. The snow had melted with the heat of his skin and darkened the fabric of his clothing. It was satisfying to see him in discomfort, but she tried to will that nasty feeling away. She would not revel in the pain of others and stew with bitterness.

He cleared his throat and puffs of his breath spilled from his lips.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “I know you are.”

“I wish things could’ve ended differently.”

She shook her head. “No you don’t.”

“Asami, yes -“

“You wanted to be with Korra,” she said shakily. “This ended well for you.”

“It didn’t end well for  _you_. And I care about you. I care about more things than Korra.”

“Sometimes, that’s hard to believe.”

She shut her eyes when she felt warm tears start to fill them, when thoughts of her father sprang to her mind and clouded the conversation she was trying to have. She would  _not_ let her issues with her father distract her now. This was another problem entirely and thoughts of  _him_  would not take that away from her.

“I’ll try harder,” he said. “It’s-it’s hard for me to care for people. I’m not used to all of…this.”

She sensed him lift his arm and gesture back towards the compound. Back to the small building packed with people, most of whom they barely knew.

The tears passed and she opened her eyes, searching for the bright star she had found before. Her eyes locked on it.

“Mako, all you do is care for people,” she said. “You just do it for one person at a time.”

“That’s…that’s all I’m used to.”

“What?”

“Just one person,” Mako muttered. “Bolin.”

It was easy to forget how much he had lost. He never said much about it. He just clutched his hand around his scarf and struggled to not pull at the fresh threads he stitched through his worn clothing.

“And I just had my father,” Asami said. “I can still care for multiple people and not ignore everyone else.”

“I don’t think our lives are as similar as you’re making them out to be,” he shot back.

“I don’t care about that. This isn’t about that at all, this is about -“

”- We’re too different. You’ll never get it.”

“This isn’t about that, Mako!”

He unfolded his arms and turned himself towards her, matching her own glare. “How are our differences not about  _us_? Maybe I couldn’t care about people besides Bolin because I didn’t have a house full of servants around to take care of me!”

“My  _father_  raised me, how  _dare_  you -“

”- Oh, so now you defend him?”

She struck out and shoved him in the shoulder, knocking him backwards into the snow. Her hand was still extended, palm flat and fingers tensed into a claw, watching as puffs of smoky air spilled from his panting mouth, breath caught in shock. His eyes were wide with fear, actual fear of her, some spoiled rich girl whose heart he had stepped on without even realizing it.

She could have stood and left him there, shivering, confused and fearful, but that wasn’t her. It was not the person she wanted to be.

She thought of her mother and her father and her tensed fingers relaxed, dropping to her lap. Turning her head away, she stared down at the broken snow piled around her body.

“I’m  _confused_ ,” she said. “You should know what that’s like.”

The sound of the snow collapsing beneath his weight as he sat up was soft, like the shifting of blankets. He moved slowly as if he were afraid of provoking her again, first sitting up as if testing her, waiting for the next strike. When it never came, he started to brush the snow from his coat.

He cleared his throat again to start anew.

“What are you confused about?”

Asami folded her body again, clinging to what heat she could save in her coat and trying to coax it to pool around her folded limbs. She was cold and angry and trying very hard not to be.

“I’m not confused about my actions,” she said slowly to keep her voice steady. One false word and she would be undone, she knew it. “I’m confused about my father. I-he’s my  _dad_ , Mako. I never just went from loving him to hating him. It’s like it changes from minute to minute and I just wish…there were closure.”

She was thankful that he didn’t nod as if he understood. He had no idea. His parents died loving him and he never had to question it for all she knew.

“Do you, uh. Want to talk to him?” he asked.

Asami shrugged and shut her eyes. “If I did, I know it would just be screaming. And that’s what’s sad. Nothing would get through to him, no matter how hurt I was. He-he’s out there in the world hating me. And he thinks he’s right.”

“Nobody could really hate you, Asami.”

She felt the tears, the pressure at the back of her throat, and she just wanted them to go  _away_.

“Yes they can,” she said, voice cracking. “But I don’t have to hate him, and I’m trying not to.”

“Why? You have every right to hate him. I hate him.”

That stung. She tried to think of a reason to tell him off, that he had no right to hate her father, but he did. As much as she felt that Mako didn’t care much for her, she knew that he did in his own way. Of course he would hate her father.

“Hatred doesn’t help anybody,” she said. “It didn’t help my father. It turned his love for my mother into something ugly. I don’t want to ever see that happen again, especially not to me. I’m the last Sato left in Republic City, and I’m not going to let my father take that name from me.”

He was quiet. She took it to mean that he was thinking before he spoke, before he acted, and she was happy for it. It also gave her a moment to duck her head into the small space of warmth she had trapped by curling her body, and suck in the warmth through a heavy sigh. She just needed the pause to will away the wetness in her eyes and clear the blockage in her throat.

“You’re not alone,” he said.

She shivered, whether it was from the strain of holding back her tears or from the cold, she didn’t know. “I feel alone.”

“You’re not. Asami, look at me.”

His tone wasn’t forceful, but she still didn’t like the idea of bending to what was essentially a command. She took a moment just to be bitter until snapping herself from that mentality, and she lifted her head.

It looked like he wanted to grab her by the shoulders, his expression open and gentle.

“You’re never going to be alone. I care about you, and I’ll try to be better at it.”

She looked away and sighed, staring back at the stars. She was one among many and she wasn’t even the most important one, just a small dot that burned consistently, but never as brightly as the rest.

“You can’t be the only person I can rely on when you’re not good at it. You can’t be that person for me. I,” she paused and swallowed thickly, unafraid of his reaction but hesitant for her words. “I deserve more.”

“I -,” he started, but bit back his words. “You’re right. I’m sorry I thought I could give that to you.”

“I’ll find someone.”

“Yeah. You will.”

He returned to copying her pose, settling in among the snow and shivering with the wetness that soaked his threadbare clothing. Asami found her green star again and trained her eyes on it. After a moment, she swore she saw a line flash across the sky. Another followed shortly after and she realized the stars were falling.

She could’ve made a wish, maybe point out her discovery to Mako. Instead she stayed quiet and took pity on the vibrations of his body, and inched closer to press their shoulders together.

He didn’t pick at any fresh scabs and she was grateful that he was allowing them both to heal.

She had no idea how long they stayed that way. The only thing that managed to pry her from the blank slate that her mind had settled into was the sound of footsteps behind her again.

“ _There_  you are,” Bolin said loudly. “I’ve been wandering around the compound thinking you got sucked under the ice or something. Oh, and hey, Mako.”

“Hey Bo.”

Bolin fell heavily to the ground beside Asami, already seated close enough to jostle her arms and side. While his brother fought for space in the world, Bolin claimed it as his own wherever he went, and he didn’t even realize it. She liked the way how he still stumbled through the world like a giant, too large for any one place to properly contain him.

“Man, it is cold out here,” he said, rubbing his arms with his hands, which in turn ran along Asami’s arm. “Why are you out here, anyway? There’s still some food left from dinner, I bet Korra’s parents will let us eat some more.”

Asami smiled. “I just needed to get away for a moment.”

“Oh,” Bolin said. He leaned forward. “And you, bro?”

“I just needed to talk to Asami.”

Bolin leaned back. “Right. Well, so do I, I guess. Hm.”

Asami lifted her head and stared at him. What they had to talk about, she had no clue. He stared out at the horizon line with his lower lip pushed out, thick brows knit together, hand brought to his chin. His bare forearms left him exposed to the cold, revealing the goosebumps that lined his skin and made the dark hair on his arms stand on end. None of that seemed to matter as he thought.

“Right, well,” he said. “I just wanted to know if you’re ok.”

“If I’m ok?” she repeated.

He nodded. “Yeah, you know. After all the stuff with your dad. Which was totally amazing by the way.”

“ _Bolin_ ,” Mako said.

“No,” Asami lifted her hand. “Let him talk.”

Bolin’s eyes darted between hers and his brother’s, before finally settling back to green. “Uh, well, you’re always really good at fighting. And all that stuff with the mechatanks and your dad was just- _I_  couldn’t do that. Like, if Mako just started acting all crazy and trying to kill me, I don’t really think I’d fight back. So. Uh. How’re you doin’ after…all…of that?”

That was what she needed. Bolin had the ability to be blunt without malice. He had always been a friend from the start, and nothing about her relationship with him had changed. He was reliable and open, but not in a way that was boring or predictable. It was like reading her favorite book and finding something new to enjoy each time.

“I’m not doing well,” she said with a smile. “But I will be.”

“You make it sound easy,” he said, frowning.

“I know it won’t be.”

He slowly nodded as he tried to understand, brow still knit but this time with his thoughts. Asami felt Mako shift beside her, as if he were struggling to keep himself contained and quiet. Bolin started nodding with more confidence.

“Ok. Well, if there’s anything I can do, just ask,” he said. “I’m not very good with talking or advice, but I give great hugs!”

Asami frowned. “Bolin, you’re great with talking. You’re the only one out of us that even wants to talk, half the time.”

“You mean I’m not annoying?”

Asami jerked back in surprise, and then glanced at Mako. If anybody had told Bolin his usual chatter was annoying, it would be him. It was hard to remind herself that Mako was still Bolin’s brother, that as much as he pretended to be a father, he was still just an older sibling. She shook him away and returned her attention to Bolin.

“No, Bolin. You’ve never been annoying. I’m really glad you came to talk to me. It means a lot.”

“Really?” Bolin said. Watching his smile grow made her feel better. She could still bring happiness into this world even with the conflict brewing in her mind towards her father, and the instinct to be bitter towards Mako.

“Yes. Really,” she said.

“ _Wow_. Thanks!”

She smiled. “And thank you for saving my life.”

“What?” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “You didn’t need me, you had it covered. I just helped a little.”

“No, Bolin. You saved my life,” she repeated. “Trust me. You did.”

Bolin’s face fell a little, and she knew he was thinking of the looks on her father’s face, filled with hatred all aimed at her. Mako sat up straighter at her side to look at his little brother.

“You did amazing out there, Bo,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”

Asami watched as Bolin’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise. He shivered once, and then, as if it were a spark, his entire face broke into a toothy grin.

He spread his arms and lifted them, leaning back in preparation to launch himself forward.  
“You  _guys_ ,” he said, and suddenly Asami’s face was shoved into Bolin’s neck, Mako’s shoulder awkwardly digging into her back as Bolin forced them all together. “Are the best family a guy could ask for.”

Asami felt her eyes begin to sting and pressed her face deeper into Bolin’s shirt, smelling dirt and sweat and though it was foreign to her, it suddenly seemed comforting. It wasn’t the flat scent of her mother’s perfume that clinged to certain corners of her old home, nor the smell of motor oil and air pollution. She felt Mako try to find comfort against her back, not used to being so close and probably wanting distance from her, but she didn’t care. He was forced there even if it would be difficult for him to stay.

She didn’t just have an ex-boyfriend, she realized. She had him and his brother. It was more family than Asami could say she had in years. Not since her mother died.

There were now three orphans sitting in the snow. They were broken and damaged, and she knew nothing would ever be the same for her, but that didn’t mean her life couldn’t flourish.

“Are you guys alright?”

Asami didn’t hear Korra’s footsteps. Mako tried to jerk away from Bolin’s grasp, but he only managed to turn his head around and jostle the trio.

“Just huggin’,” Bolin said brightly, lifting his head.

“We were talking,” Mako corrected.

Korra chuckled lightly. “Looks like a good conversation. Can I join?”

Asami felt one of Bolin’s arms disappear from her side as he extended it. “Of course! The more, the merrier.”

“Bo, your arms aren’t big enough,” Mako said.

Korra walked to the front of the group, kneeling down and leaning forward. Asami felt her warmth there, her knees bumping against her legs as she shuffled forward in the snow.

“Then help me,” Bolin said back to his brother, and Asami heard the soft thump of Bolin’s arm colliding with Korra’s back, rushing her forward to knock her face against Asami’s shoulder.

Korra laughed and wiggled to become more comfortable, and suddenly, the circle grew tighter. “Nah, Bolin, my arms are stronger. I’ll help hold us all together.”

“Is this not painful for anyone else?” Mako asked.

“ _Shh_ _!_ ” Bolin hissed. “You’re ruining the moment.”

“No, Bo, just -” Mako stumbled and started shifting again, this time opening a gap where his shoulder had been painfully pressed into Asami’s back. “I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“What’s love without a little pain?” Korra laughed.

Asami started giggling, the hot air from her breath creating a pocket of damp warmth in the cloth of Bolin’s coat, and she felt him shiver with the touch. She reached and snaked her arms out, one to wrap around Bolin’s torso, the other to graze past Mako’s stomach to find the back of Korra’s coat.

“How long have you all been sitting out here?” Korra asked, leaning into Asami’s hand.

“A while,” Asami said.

“Why?”

She shrugged and licked her lips, feeling lint from Bolin’s shirt cling to her lipstick. She lifted her head from his shoulder and started licking it away. “Just waiting.”

They sat in silence after that, enjoying the close proximity of each other after holding themselves at a distance for so long. Not out of lack of care, or need to hold each other, but because the timing was never right. Just as the war pulled Asami away from her father, it distanced her from her friends.

She still didn’t hold much belief in the spirits, despite her best friend at her side, pressing her face into Asami’s shoulder. There were few things she held much belief in anymore. The universal truths had been challenged and crumbled at her feet. Her father didn’t love her like a father should. Then days later, she witnessed a spirit take over the Korra she knew for a moment, all glowing eyes and power coming from her capable hands. There was so much conflict surrounding her but in the pocket of heat they had created, something felt right. Like the spirits had taken pity and brought them together. The invisible fishing line hooked into her skin had tangled with Mako’s, then Bolin’s, and later Korra’s in a way that might have been messy, and sometimes cruel, but now she knew that meant she wasn’t alone.

The strings could be cut, especially with someone as powerful as Korra. But for the moment, they were connected.

“I’m freezing,” Bolin suddenly mumbled.

Korra and Asami both giggled, and Mako snorted to hold back his laughter. Everyone started to pull themselves free from the tangle, but stayed close for warmth even as it disappeared from their group. Bolin kept his arm around Asami’s shoulders and Mako didn’t edge away from her side, even as he snaked his arm around Korra’s waist.

They were stilled again into looking at the sky. Asami was sure that if she asked, Korra could point out constellations, even guide them back to Republic City with just the stars as a map. She was content to sit.

“I moved my bed into the guest rooms,” Korra said. “If that’s alright with you guys.”

“Of course it is,” Mako said.

“Does this mean we get to have a sleepover?” Bolin asked.

Asami chuckled and let her eyes wander back to the green star, focusing to catch falling ones out of the corner of her eye. “If we get to sleep, that is.”

“Oh,” Korra said, crestfallen. “Are the beds uncomfortable? I know people haven’t been sleeping well here, but…”

“Oh, no,” Asami said. “You don’t sleep at sleepovers.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not, Korra,” Bolin said. “ _Duh_.”

“The beds are plenty comfy,” Asami stressed. “I haven’t slept so well in ages.”

“And they’re warm,” Mako said.

“And safe,” Bolin ended.

Asami leaned against Bolin, dropping her head to rest atop his, and feeling strong enough to loop her arm through Mako’s. He tensed for a moment, but she never sought his hand for her own, and he relaxed. Their knots would be difficult to work out.

But it was true. They were safe there, hidden together at the bottom of the world, tips of their noses and fingers purple with cold. There was no better place for three orphans than in the hands of Korra, the link binding them all together and stringing them in a line, following behind the generations of family before her.

Asami sighed. “I never want to go home.”

Bolin squeezed her shoulders and Mako found her hand, clasped it for one strong moment, and let go.

Korra, ever constant, laughed.

“You are home.”


End file.
